


Peachy

by sarahmademedoit



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 01:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19897699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahmademedoit/pseuds/sarahmademedoit
Summary: Bucky wants to bottle the moment up, keep in the back of his sock drawer where nothing can happen to it. Bucky doesn’t even pretend to resist his impulse to touch. He just reaches out his arm, brushing his thumb across the pretty crook in Steve’s nose, the height of his cheekbone, the stubble of his jaw.“You’re beautiful.”+A quick vignette, featuring sleepy and happy Steve and Bucky.





	Peachy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yeeter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeeter/gifts).



> All recognizable characters and plot points belong to Marvel. As always, Sarah made me do it.

The morning dawns far too early in Bucky’s opinion. Steve’s body is heavy and sleep-warm, sprawled all over him. He’s got pillow creases, and the smallest of small puddles of drool has taken up residence on Bucky’s chest. As sweet as it is, Bucky desperately needs to piss and his mouth tastes like a dumpster. 

He wriggles out from under the super soldier, running a hand through Steve’s hair to settle the half-awake grumbles. 

Bucky enters the dark of the bathroom with a sigh of relief. It’s too damn bright out there with all the windows. The relief only compounds upon itself when he finally gets to empty his bladder. Soon enough his face is washed and his mouth is minty clean. 

When he slides back into bed, Steve cuddles closer. Bucky can tell his best fella is already awake, but he lets Stevie pretend a little longer. There’s no harm in pretending they’re two normal guys for once. 

After a few long minutes, Steve wriggles closer, stretching his long body out before curling up so small Bucky wonders where he hides all that length. Steve mumbles something directly into the skin of Bucky’s neck. 

“What’d you say?” 

Steve sighs, and Bucky swears he can feel Stevie’s eyes rolling against his cheek. He pinches Steve’s ass in retaliation. This, of course, leads Steve to slap Bucky’s nipple, and Bucky can’t be the Winter Soldiers and let that shit slide, now can he? 

Bucky is unrepentant as he pulls the pillow from his behind his head to slam it over Steve’s. He holds his own for all of four minutes before Steve has him pinned by his hands. 

Steve’s smirk is flushed and sly as he leans in close. “Oh, how the tables have turned.” 

Bucky loops his leg behind Steve’s knee and flips them bodily. He presses Steve into the mattress, immediately sucking another hickey high on his neck. He pulls back, admiring the riot of purples and red bruising nicely from last night. 

“How the tables have turned, my left ass cheek. Go brush your teeth; your mouth smells like a garbage fire.” 

Steve laughs and Bucky covers his nose in faux disgust. 

“Go! Before I keel over from noxious fumes inhalation!”

“Fuck you!” 

“I love you too,” Bucky crows. 

Steve flips him the bird as he disappears into the bathroom. Bucky flops back on the bed, still giggly and exhilarated. He listens as the water runs on and off for a suspiciously short amount of time in Bucky’s humble opinion. 

“You sure you got your molars?” 

“I used my super speed.” 

“You don’t have super speed. You’re just super nasty.” 

Steve just laughs and flings himself onto the rumpled sheets. Bucky can’t resist turning to look at him, peachy and happy in the sunlight. 

He looks carefree. He looks beautiful. 

Bucky wants to bottle the moment up, keep in the back of his sock drawer where nothing can happen to it. Bucky doesn’t even pretend to resist his impulse to touch. He just reaches out his arm, brushing his thumb across the pretty crook in Steve’s nose, the height of his cheekbone, the stubble of his jaw. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

Steve flushes bright red, and Bucky thinks he might be dreaming ‘cause humans aren’t meant to be that pretty at god-awful-o’clock with shoddily brushed teeth and pillow marks. Yet there Stevie is, looking like a cherub in Bucky’s bed. 

“We should get outta bed.” 

Stevie never did take compliments well. Bucky really oughta start training him up. But not right now. Right now they’re still pretending to be normal guys in a normal apartment doing normal things like debating when to get out of bed. 

“Ten more minutes.” 

“What time is it, anyways?” 

When Bucky shrugs, Steve sends him a look that seems to say How useless could you be? and I love you so much, you’re such a dork, at the same time. Bucky just grins, flinging his arm back, feeling around until his hand finds the phone. He heaves a sigh, pulling the phone onto the bed and jabbing at the home button inexpertly. 

“9:40 am.” 

Steve snaps up, flinging his legs over the side of the mattress. His hair is sticking up in a million directions, and he generally has the bearance of a startled cat. Bucky wisely decides that now is not a good time to mention it. 

“Bucky, get up! Tony said Team Day starts at 10 and we haven’t even eaten breakfast!” 

Bucky groans, but does as Stevie bids. There’s no use fighting him once he convinces himself that they’ll be late. 

“I’d just like to have stated on the records that we live 30 seconds away from the common floor. We ain’t gonna be late, baby.” 

Steve shoots him a withering glare, hair still sticking in 40 directions and love bites dark against his Irish skin. 

“Okay, doll, I can’t take you seriously with your hair like that.” 

Steve scowls harder. Bucky has to laugh, though it clearly isn’t welcome. He dodges a pillow chucked his direction, and pushes to the edge of the bed. 

“I’m up, I’m up. No need to get your panties in a twist.” 

Steve has evidently stopped paying attention to him, rifling through one of his drawers instead. 

“What am I gonna wear? I wore those jeans two days ago, I don’t wanna wear them again today… I don’t have any shirts to go with these… these don’t even fit me!” 

Bucky comes up behind him and wraps him in a hug. 

“Baby, breathe.” 

Bucky plants his face between Steve’s scapula, feels the way his ribs expand, then contract. Kisses the sleep warm skin, and enjoys the resulting shiver. He sometimes feels a certain kinda way about being shorter than Steve after so many years of towering over him. But right now? Right now he doesn’t mind so much. 

“Why are you getting worked up about it, huh? Just wear sweats, baby. We’re gonna play video games with the little scrap from Queens, not be in a fuckin’ L.L. Bean ad.” 

Steve coughs out a little laugh. His shoulders relax, though, so Bucky counts it as a win. 

Steve nods. “But you gotta wear sweats too. I don’t wanna be the only one.” 

It’s Bucky’s turn to chuckle. “Deal. We’ll wear sweats and those weird old man socks you like and slides and it’ll be fine.” 

“I’m not wearing those goddamn slippers that you call shoes.” 

Bucky bites him in retaliation, which only makes Steve laugh. 

“I fuckin hate you,” Bucky mutters. Steve laughs harder. 

“No you don’t,” he gasps out. “You looooove me.” 

Bucky just shakes his head ‘cause yeah, he does. God help him.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Herein be silly, old-married-couple James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. This is actually a sneak peak! The larger work is coming soon, so stay tuned!


End file.
